A/N: This is one that I think most people have been rather curious about for a while now. We've already seen how Payson and Sasha became reacquainted in Washington, but how exactly did they get together?

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Sixteen-by-Eight Feet

Disclaimer: I do not own MIOBI.

Summary: "So good in fact we're planning on eloping. I will then move into the airstream, and if it is a boy we shall name him Sasha Junior," was her sarcastic reply. Who would have known that those words would come back to haunt her? Payson/Sasha drabble.

Agony Aunt

If anyone ever found out she'd deny it. Not that they would for any reason, but it was always best to consider all the possibilities in a situation like this, and the last thing that she wanted her friends (or her mother or her sister or anyone she had ever met ever) finding out that she was consulting Women's Interest magazines for romantic advice.

Most of it was just common sense anyway. Payson largely considered herself 'romantically naïve', but even she realized that a phonecall after 11pm was a booty call and that if a guy is un-tagging you in photos then you're probably not his only girlfriend. Which wasn't, by the way, the sort of advice she was looking for.

She'd just been sort of drawn to one of the headlines, and in her desperation, she'd shelled out the $4.20 (which she thought was a touch overpriced for something so tawdry) for that one article. Like hell she wanted to be caught reading it at the store, especially when that store was the campus bookshop and someone she knew could walk in at any moment.

After paying for the magazine and a few other items to disguise her purchase (the level of deception reminded her of a teenaged boy trying to buy porn for the first time) she hightailed back to her room, grateful that she no longer had a roommate to watch over her shoulder. She flicked quickly to the article she was after, glancing around suspiciously as she re-read the headline.

How to go from Good Friend to Girlfriend

She couldn't help but cringe at the measures she'd been forced to take. It wasn't like she could really talk to anyone about this. None of them had really gone through this sort of thing themselves and she wasn't looking forward to any of their reactions. Lauren would likely be smug and act as though she'd called it right from the start. Emily would probably act all squeamish and Kaylie would probably be judgmental. And aside from Kiera – who had made it uncomfortably clear that she was all for any positive actions in that direction – she just wasn't close enough to anyone else at UW that she could go to for advice.

Thus her resorting to gossip magazines.

All because of one slightly awkward incident.

~ Three Weeks Earlier

Sasha never acted surprised to see her sitting alone in his living room with her books spread over his coffee table as she aimlessly highlighted the important passages. Even though she no longer had a crazy roommate to escape from, this remained one of her favourite study haunts and one of her favourite places generally.

Instead he just casually walked through his apartment as though this were a completely normal occurrence. "Something smells good," he noted as he moved from the lounge to the kitchen, eying the moderately sized oven appreciatively.

"I made you lasagne," Payson replied, glancing briefly over her shoulder. "It should keep you fed for the week."

She sighed and lifted her arms over head, stretching out the kinks in her body that came from leaning over her books. "Time for a study break," she said emphatically, nearly jumping to her feet.

"Didn't classes only just get back?" Sasha asked with a smirk of amusement.

"Yeah," she shrugged. "No point putting it off." She swanned into the kitchen, picking up a mug sitting on the counter and bringing it to her lips. "Uck, this is cold," she complained with a sour expression.

"It is," Sasha noted, his eyes quite clearly laughing at her. "How long ago did you make it?"

She gave a small shrug and a vague wave of her hand that quite clearly said she had no idea. And he laughed again, this time a proper laugh, throwing back his head with amusement and smiling wider as she joined in.

She loved his laughter. She loved the sound, the low timbre. She loved the way his expression creased with joy. It simply wasn't possible for her to hear him laugh without joining him.

But the thing she loved most was the way he became so unguarded afterwards. There was always a moment, right after he was done laughing, when the walls that guarded his expression fell away – just for a second – and she could read him like an open book. She loved seeing him so vulnerable and so different from the hard, impenetrable man she had known in her youth.

Today was no different, and for that brief second as their eyes met in the fading joy, his expression read clearer than it had ever read before. And there was something there she had never expected to see – a look of awe and wonder and gratitude and joy. And he was just looking at her like she was the greatest thing he had ever seen.

It made her heart speed and her breath catch, and she wondered how she had never seen it before. But then the walls were back up, and the guardedness returned, and she would have doubted its existence if there wasn't a little afterglow that remained in the warm smile he continued to send her way.

"Do you want a cuppa?" he asked, bringing her away from her thoughts with a light touch to her hand that she had always brushed off as platonic.

She shook her head, reluctant to leave after her latest revelation but knowing she had to. "I have to go meet Kiera," she told him with a rueful smile. "Do you want to come over Friday for dinner?" she offered. "I'll make your favourite."

He smiled back and nodded his head, walking her towards the door and making no mention of the things she left sprawled over his room. He knew she'd be back for them tomorrow or some other time, and they weren't causing him any bother being there.

As they stood beside the door, she made a split-second decision. She took a step closer and moved in, whispering a low "I'll see you tomorrow," as she pressed a kiss just shy of his lips. She pulled away ever so slightly, meeting his gaze and begging him to see, for him to read her like she had him. She held it for as long as she could, pouring everything into her stare in the hopes that he would finally understand, finally realize what she had been keeping from him for years.

And then suddenly she was hard against the door with Sasha's lips firmly against her own, kissing her with all the fierce intensity she had always dreamed he would. His hands clenched at her hip while hers threaded into his hair as she opened her mouth to allow him to kiss her more fully. Their lips parted only a moment for air, each kiss flowing seamlessly into the next.

And then just as suddenly he was three steps away, refusing to meet her gaze. Everything about him – his suddenly tense demeanour, his disparaging expression, and the forced distance between them – screamed one thought: 'This is wrong!' and the words that left his lips as he turned away from her nearly broke her in two.

"You should go."

It had been nearly three weeks since she and Sasha kissed and she had to do something. One of her best friends was avoiding her, and when she did manage to get a hold of him, he was distant and practically silent. They'd gone from being able to talk about anything to struggling with small talk just because they accidentally kissed.

Well, not so much accidentally. And she wasn't really sure 'kissed' was the right word for it either. It was more like a series of kisses that she would have admitted as being completely intentional if it weren't for Sasha's guilt harrowed expression and the unvoiced apologies that followed it.

And it wasn't like Sasha could just smooth things over this time with a moving speech about the relationship between a coach and athlete. They were so far beyond that point it wasn't funny. They were probably beyond that point back when he said it the first time (they were very much bordering on friends back then, and the years between had only brought them closer).

They had moved so far beyond the point of denail and brushing things under the rug, and despite any arguments Sasha might have in the contrary, she loved him. And she had a pretty good feeling that Sasha might love her too.

~ A few days later

Thursday night was a late practice for the 'Gym Dawgs', which meant she knew exactly where Sasha would be and she knew he wouldn't have any plans afterwards. She waited for the last of the twelve or so girls to leave, and then ducked into the gymnasium with her usual carrier of take-out while Sasha went over his notes from practice.

"I went to that Vietnamese place on 19th," she called as she entered, announcing her presence obliquely. He nearly jumped from his seat at the sound of her voice, which she did her best to ignore for the time being. "I got that jalapeno lemongrass one you like because you're weird and apparently have no sense of courtesy for your taste buds."

"Thanks, Pay," he said with a weak smile as she sat beside him on the bleachers. He usually stood to greet her with a hug, or a squeeze of her hand, or kiss to her crown when he was feeling especially affectionate. Sasha was naturally a very physical person, and she could see him almost twitch as he restrained himself from greeting her in his usual manner, maintaining a physical distance as well as an emotional distance.

"I wasn't expecting you tonight," he admitted, looking uncomfortable. She could read between the lines and understood that what he was really confessing to was the small part of him that hoped that she wouldn't show.

She gave him a slightly reproachful look. "Who'd feed you then?" she asked him playfully.

"I have cereal," he shrugged, his smile turning a little more genuine at the shared memory alluded to. "What else did you get?"

"A smoothie," she said, emptying the carrier bag of its contents. She handed him his dish with a shudder. "Summer rolls. And soup for me."

Sasha nodded as he picked up the dish. "They do a good Pho," he said, feeling the need to fill the silence.

"They do," she agreed. She was happy not to say more. The silence was nice, and some of the times she loved best between them was when they were just sitting, side-by-side, with nothing to say. It didn't need to be filled, and it was only Sasha's current awkwardness around her that made him think otherwise.

That said, she had to say something, but she'd let him have his taste bud killing curry first before she forced a confrontation.

"Sasha, we need to talk," she expelled as soon as they were done. He turned towards her, his expression a mixture of surprise and grief.

She took a deep breath and continued. "There's something I need to say to you and Cosmo says it's best just to be direct in these situations, so I'm just going to say it," she said plainly, verging on babbling as her nerves began to take hold. Sasha lifted an eyebrow at the mention of Cosmo but she continued without addressing the unspoken question.

"I'm in love with you."

There was a long silence as about a million different emotions flashed before Sasha's eyes, all gone far too quickly for her to be able name and categorize each one. "So now it's your turn," she said, making a vague gesture with her hands for him to take the floor.

"That's not what I thought you were going to say," Sasha spluttered, saying the first thing that came to mind.

"Good," she admitted, "because the expression on your face when I started talking wasn't exactly encouraging.

"So what happens next?" she asked when it became clear that Sasha wasn't going to say more.

"I don't know," he said sorrowfully.

She lifted an eyebrow, his tone making her wonder if maybe she'd done the wrong thing in following the advice of some nameless stranger writing for mass appeal. Had she really read things so wrong? While she hadn't had that much experience with the opposite sex, she could have swore she saw something more than mere platonic affection and physical attraction in his eyes. Something more concrete.

"You don't know because you don't know if you want to be friends anymore? Or you don't know because . . ." She wasn't even sure how she wanted to finish that sentence and trailed off as Sasha's eyes shot wide with fear.

"I don't want that," he protested quickly. "I don't want us to stop being friends. I just . . . maybe it's for the best."

"Because I've made things awkward between us by telling you I love you when you don't feel the same?" she guessed with a pained smile. "I'm so stupid," she accused bitingly. "I ruined everything."

"No," Sasha said simply, his voice low and his hand suddenly brushing against her cheek. "You, Payson Keeler, are most definitely not stupid and I won't hear you say that about yourself."

He leaned forward, using the hand on her cheek to guide her towards his lips for just an instant. "You are the wisest, bravest, most beautiful . . ." he began, trailing off as his expression dropped. "And I don't deserve you," he muttered lowly. He dropped his hand from her cheek and forced himself to turn away, posture rigid as he stared straight ahead into the empty gym.

So that's what it is. Somehow she wasn't all that surprised to hear him say as much.

The laugh that trailed from her lips wasn't joyful. It was ironic, if anything, reverberating from the tiny heartbreak she felt at his words. "And you are the stupidest, most stubborn, most ridiculously noble man I have ever met," she accused with an exasperated scoff.

"I'm not," he rallied against her, still refusing to look at her. "I'm anything but noble."

"You are," she disagreed, shifting closer to him. She approached cautiously, first taking his hand in her own and then leaning her head against his shoulder. For a few moments, they simply sat in silence while she traced her fingers over the lines and callouses of his well-worn hands, feeling him eventually relax under the touch. She knew she was pushing him, and that it was perhaps underhanded to use this weakness against him, but she refused to simply let it go. Not when what he wasn't saying told her everything she needed to hear.

"It's one of the things I love about you," she told him softly. "My noble Alexandru," she added, feeling his heartbeat quicken as her fingers fell over his pulse point. "You've already given up everything to protect me once, Sasha. I won't let you do it again."

"You . . . you deserve so much more than this, Payson," he protested weakly, wishing he had the strength and honour to really push her away. "Someone who isn't damaged by a lifetime of burning bridges."

She didn't budge, didn't even seem to respond to his argument. "You won't let me just walk away, will you," he laughed humourlessly, his traitorous gaze shifting down towards their joint hands.

"Never," she assured him. "You know I'll just keep chasing after you.

"The thing is, Sasha Belov," she said in authoritative tone, moving away slightly so he could turn to face her. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes as she offered him a wane smile. "I'm not sure I could live without you."

He swallowed thickly, seeming to come to a decision in the brief instant between their words. "Then I suppose," he said, pausing to find the right words, "the rest of it doesn't matter?" He wore a hopeful expression as every reason he had imagined for why they shouldn't be together fell to oblivion. The age gap, what others would think, his own conviction that he might be the worst person in the world for her – suddenly it all seemed like trifling excuses to keep him at bay.

"Not to me," she answered sincerely, knowing exactly what he was asking her. "Sasha – "

Whatever she was about to say never made it past her lips as Sasha's lips sealed over her own, kissing her soundly and erasing it from her mind. Her heart raced as he anchored a hand at her waist, pulling her as close as was possible in their current position. She was pretty sure nobody had ever kissed her like that – like he was trying to make up for a million times when he hadn't kissed her when he really should have.

She was breathless when they finally pulled apart, her lips bruised and tender from the assault. But she couldn't help but smile as Sasha leaned his forehead lightly against her own, his eyes less guarded then they had been the last time they'd kissed like that, and his hand still clutching at her waist. She raised a hand to his face, needing physically feel him under her fingertips to confirm that he was real and that he wasn't going to disappear as soon as she blinked.

"So I guess this means you'll let me catch you this time?" she asked with a coy smile.

"I think it's too late for that," Sasha replied, his expression solemn. He grinned suddenly, his blue eyes lighting with familiar teasing. "I think you had me at 'Cosmo'," he said, an eyebrow raised in the same unspoken question asked earlier.

She grimaced and he laughed, and she probably would have been mad at him for at least two days if he hadn't chosen that moment to press a chaste kiss to her lips and whisper three unequivocal words in her ear.

"I love you."

~ FIN ~

Notes:

This isn't actually how I initially wanted to get them together. I had this fantastic comedy of errors type situation vaguely outlined in my head, but I guess sometimes the simplest version is what works best.

And for anyone wondering (because apparently the term isn't as widespread as I thought), an 'Agony Aunt' is an advice columnist.